


this is right where it begins

by allyasavedtheday



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Napping, POV Alternating, Sharing a Bed, mentions of closeting/pr stunts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5001250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyasavedtheday/pseuds/allyasavedtheday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t sleep.”</p><p>“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Louis huffs but Harry can see the corners of his mouth turning up.</p><p>“Come cuddle?” Harry asks hopefully, tentatively opening his arms out.</p><p>*</p><p>Because they're better off together in their bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is right where it begins

**Author's Note:**

> oh god okay. so this is the first fic i've written for the 1d fandom and to say i'm terrified would be an understatement so pls be delicate if u can lmao
> 
> what u need to know about this fic: it's cuddling, lots of it. okay there are no complicated plots, no unnecessary angst, no break-ups. it's literally five years of them cuddling, that's all. so like, if you're looking for a gripping storyline please go elsewhere lol. if, however, if you're looking for your soul to be soothed after all the shit 1d has put you through in 2015 then please, read away. ok. this is me trying to replicate the contentment u felt when H/L hugged so please, enjoy <3
> 
> **THERE ARE SOME LINES IN THIS FIC THAT ARE REMINISCENT OF SONGS FROM MITAM AND I S2G I WROTE THEM BEFORE I HEARD EVERYTHING EXCEPT DMD SO I'M REALLY HIGHKEY ABOUT THEM BUT ALSO MITAM LEAKED JUST AS I WAS FINISHING SO LMAO THANKS BOYS, FOR THE INSP
> 
> I don't own one direction, this story is fictional etc etc. songs mentioned in one of the scenes are Your Song by Kate Walsh and Wake Up With Me by Gabrielle Aplin and the title comes from Is There Somewhere by Halsey. there's also a short lil line from once upon a time that I used bc i loved it too much to resist, just message me if you're wondering what it is!!
> 
> Finally, I need to say a hundred, thousand thank you's to [Frankie](http://w-ldestdreams.tumblr.com/) for being so wonderful and britpicking for me, [eeames](http://eeames.tumblr.com/) for making me the loveliest manips and [Tina](http://louiswhitepants.tumblr.com/) for just generally letting me accost her with feelings whenever i got too emotional, you're all stars <3

The Bungalow

Harry is…

Harry is bright. And beautiful. And ethereal. And Louis wants to be closer. Always closer.

They’re supposed to be using this time to get know each other and rehearse for Judges’ Houses and they are, Louis likes all the boys just fine and he has plenty in common with them but Harry…

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him when he’s around Harry. He just- he wants to make him laugh and smile, he wants to run his fingers through his curls, he wants to kiss his dimples…he wants him. Every single, teeny, tiny part of him.

He can count on one hand how many weeks they’ve known each other but he’s never been more certain of something in his life.

It’s their second night in Harry’s step-dad’s place and personal space has already been pretty much obliterated between the five of them. Which is why they’re opting to sleep in the living room so they can actually talk instead of the spare rooms they’d all claimed as their own yesterday.

“Shotgun sleeping on the sofa!” Louis announces as soon as the air mattresses have been blown up. To drive his point home he launches himself onto the couch and stretches out.

“But it’s my house,” Harry pouts, but there’s no intent behind it. Louis’ noticed the way Harry tends to bend to his whim over the little things. To be honest all it makes him want to do is change his mind and go with Harry’s idea instead.

This time he just bites the inside of his cheek and says, “But I’m a guest. And the oldest so obviously I get first choice.”

“But Lou,” Harry whines, sleeping bag bunched up between his bony fingers. “I told you I have a bad back, do you really want me to sleep on the air bed and make it worse? What if it’s so bad tomorrow I can’t rehearse?” His eyes are wide and innocent and Louis isn’t buying it for a second.

…But Liam is, apparently.

“Oh we really can’t afford to rehearse any less,” he pipes up from where he’s trying to fit a sheet over one of the mattresses with Niall.

Louis rolls his eyes, watches Harry turn the puppy-dog look up another notch and feels something in himself crack. “Go on then, Curly,” he sighs dramatically. “We can share.”

Harry beams at him, abandoning his sleeping bag and throwing himself onto the sofa. Louis moves his legs just in time to avoid being crushed but as soon as Harry’s comfortable he latches onto Louis’ ankles, settling his legs across his lap.

When Louis raises his eyebrows in question Harry only shrugs and starts tapping about a beat on his shins with his fingers.

Yeah, Louis needs to be closer.

*

They’re the last two to fall asleep and it isn’t until Louis makes out Harry yawning and rubbing at his eyes in the dim light that he suggests anything. “Should we hit the hay, Curly?” His voice sounds unbearably soft, even to his own ears, but it doesn’t bother him as much in the darkness as it would otherwise.

“m’kay,” Harry sighs quietly. “Wanna sleep top to toe?”

It’s the option that makes the most sense given they’re both already seated on either end of the couch, backs against the armrests and legs tangled in the middle. It makes the most sense in general because that’s what normal friends do but the fact that Harry even asked…does that mean there could be another option?

“I didn’t know you were so eager to get up close and personal with my smelly feet, Harold,” he teases, nudging his toe against Harry’s calf under the blanket and hoping it’ll hide the unsteadiness of his voice.

The face Harry pulls is visible even in the dark and Louis has to bite his lip from laughing. “Forgot you never wear socks,” he grumbles.

“Socks are an abomination,” he retorts swiftly. “Well come on then, get up here. I promise I won’t push you off the sofa in your sleep.”

“Why don’t I trust you?” Harry answers sceptically, shuffling around until he can crawl up the couch to Louis’ side.

“You do,” Louis insists, pressing himself against the back of the couch to give Harry room.

Harry doesn’t reply until they’re both lying on their sides, face to face, and way too close to be considered platonic. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I do.”

Louis’ throat bobs and he hopes to god Harry doesn’t see because this is too much. Harry is too close and still, Louis wants him closer. Louis wants them to be wrapped up together, in their own little bubble, away from everyone else. He wants to be surrounded by Harry, only Harry, and that’s a really fucking terrifying thought when they’ve only known each other a handful of weeks.

So he grins, tries to laugh and pokes Harry in the ribs. “Come on, roll over, you’re gonna fall off the sofa if you sleep like that.”

“Fall, was pushed, what’s the difference really?” Harry giggles, dodging another jab from Louis as he turns onto his other side.

It takes everything in him to stop his hands from shaking when he reaches out for Harry after he stops moving. Carefully, he lopes one arm around Harry’s middle and gently pulls him back towards him.

There’s a single second where Harry doesn’t move, where Louis is convinced he’s about to resist and already has ten thousand apologies on his lips but then Harry sinks back against his chest with a contented sigh.

Louis breathes out his own little sigh of relief and worms his other arm underneath Harry so he can wrap them both securely around him. “Not going to let you fall, Haz,” he whispers, voice muffled slightly by the fabric of Harry’s t-shirt.

“Maybe I want to fall.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe I’m not talking about the sofa, Lou.”

Louis doesn’t reply, doesn’t think he could find the words _to_ reply, because that- that sounds a lot like everything Louis could hope for. And he learned a long time ago to never get his hopes up when it always somehow ends in disappointment.

Instead he settles for nudging Harry’s shoulder with the tip of his nose and tightening his arms just a little bit more. “Night, Hazza.”

Harry folds his hands over Louis’ and sounds like he’s smiling when he murmurs, “Night, Lou.”

* * *

 

The X Factor House

“Lou?” Harry whispers, pausing to wait for a response. When he receives none he sits up in his bunk, jabbing at the underside of Louis’ mattress. “Lou, are you awake?”

A moment later a dishevelled head appears over the edge of the top bunk. “Honestly, H, can I not have one minute of peace?”

If it were anyone else, Harry would probably worry about annoying them but when Louis teases him it’s generally just another way for him to show affection so he shakes his head and muffles a laugh.

“Nah-uh,” Harry replies with a grin. “I can’t sleep.”

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Louis huffs but Harry can see the corners of his mouth turning up.

“Come cuddle?” Harry asks hopefully, tentatively opening his arms out.

Louis heaves the most over-exaggerated sigh Harry’s probably ever heard - which is saying something since they’ve been living with each other for about five weeks now and Louis sighs a lot – and flops over the railing of his bed, landing in a crouch on the floor next to Harry’s bed.

“Well, budge up then, Curly. Can’t very well cuddle if there’s no room, now can we?”

“Thought you prefer sleeping on the inside?” Harry asks confusedly and it makes Louis pause. He’s pretty sure they realise at the same time that it’s not normal for them to have their own sides of the bed.

But Louis just shakes his head and breathes out a tiny laugh before crawling over Harry’s legs and situating himself in the spot closest to the wall. “How considerate of you,” he hums once he lies back, naturally easing onto his side to face Harry.

He knows this is the part where he’s supposed to roll onto his other side, where he’s supposed to press his back to Louis’ chest and let Louis’ steady breaths and soothing hands lull him to sleep but he just- he doesn’t want to sleep yet.

So when he lies back down he rolls onto his right side, his nose bumping Louis’ in the close proximity and pulls the blanket over their heads.

“Harry, what are y-“

“I wanna talk for a while,” he murmurs. Sharing one pillow makes Louis’ forehead brush his every time he moves his head, Harry wants to press them together and count Louis’ eyelashes.

“We’ll wake the others,” Louis comments but Harry knows he couldn’t care less about that. Louis doesn’t care how loud he is no matter what time of day it is or who’s asleep.

“I can be quiet,” Harry says, eyes flicking down at the sound of the covers rustling. He can’t make out the movement in the dark but he thinks Louis might be twisting his hands in his own t-shirt, almost like he’s stopping himself from reaching out.

“Unlikely,” Louis scoffs quietly but there’s a tremor in his voice. Harry gently pries his hands away from his t-shirt and links them with his own.

He can feel Louis’ eyes on him, an unspoken question hanging suspended in the air between them.

“Try me,” Harry whispers.

There’s a split second where they just look at each other, eyes barely focused in the dark, before Louis surges forward and crushes their lips together.

His hands sink into Harry’s hair like he’s been itching to do it for weeks, fingers tugging and twisting in his curls in a way that makes a shiver run down Harry’s spine.

It takes him a second – even though he was half-expecting it – to remember to kiss back, Louis’ insistent tongue coaxing him to open his mouth. Harry lets out a sigh, feeling his heart stutter at the way air rushes out from between Louis’ lips and ghosts over his own mouth when they part for a breath.

The kiss slows down after that, melds into something soft and sweet and yet altogether even more overwhelming than before. Louis’ lips brush his over and over and over again as Harry’s hands travel up to cradle Louis’ jaw.

And he’s positive he never, ever wants to stop.

Because it’s just- this is _theirs_.

There’s a lot of insane things happening right now and every single week is uncertain and everything is constantly changing and it’s anxiety inducing at the best of times. But this- this doesn’t scare Harry the way it should.

It feels like…like the first right decision he’s made in a long time. It feels like his sure thing.

Everything else might be up in the air and could come crumbling down tomorrow but Louis is his sure thing.

When everything’s gone, Louis will be here. And maybe he’s too young to know that, maybe he’s moving too fast and he’s too caught up in the moment but there’s something in his head telling him he’s not.

When they eventually pull apart, faces flushed and lips swollen, Louis lets out a shaky laugh and ghosts his thumb over Harry’s dimple. “Probably shouldn’t’ve done that,” he remarks idly.

“Yes you should’ve,” Harry insists, squeezing Louis’ wrist. “I wanted to.”

Louis’ eyes flick up from where they’d been tracing Harry’s lip and he smiles. It’s soft and quiet and gives Harry butterflies. “I know, love. I did too.”

“So then don’t tell me we shouldn’t have done it.” He nudges forward, forehead tipping against Louis’ and legs tangling under the covers. “I wanted to kiss you and you wanted to kiss me so we kissed. And it was perfect.”

Louis huffs out a breath, tries to turn his head away because he probably feels embarrassed but Harry doesn’t let him, hand curling around his jaw to hold him in place. “Lou,” he pleads.

“You know there’s about ten million reasons why we shouldn’t do this,” Louis mumbles but it’s not all that effective when he’s mumbling it against Harry’s mouth.

“I don’t care,” Harry responds, ghosting his lips over Louis’. “I want to kiss you all the time, whenever I want.”

Louis grins, nipping at his bottom lip, and sliding a warm hand under Harry’s t-shirt. “Then do.”

*

It’s later, sometime just before dawn, when Harry’s drifting in and out of consciousness, tucked up securely in Louis’ arms that he has the briefest thought - clear amidst the haziness of dreaming - that he’s going to do whatever it takes to find a way to fall asleep with Louis Tomlinson every night for the rest of his life.

* * *

 

They lost.

They’re moving out of the X Factor house.

Harry’s going home to Cheshire, Liam’s going to Wolverhampton, Zayn’s going to Bradford, Niall’s going to Mullingar and Louis’ going back to Doncaster.

It’s all over.

They’ve still got a little bit of time though.

“What’s gonna happen after this?” Harry asks, voice thick with tears and clinging to Louis’ arm around his chest like a lifeline.

Louis presses his forehead to Harry’s shoulder before replacing it with his mouth. He kisses his shoulder, his neck, the hinge of his jaw, and cuddles in closer. They’ve got approximately twenty minutes before they have to vacate Harry’s bunk and pack up the rest of the stuff. Everyone else was kind enough to give them a little bit of alone time for now.

“I don’t know,” Louis answers honestly, though it sounds like he doesn’t want to. “’m not letting you go though.”

Harry laughs even though it probably sounds more like a sob. “You might not have a choice.”

“Don’t care,” Louis insists. “I’ll come live under your bed if I have to.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” he replies, lips curving up involuntarily.

“Your mum might though,” Louis chuckles.

“We’ll wear her down.”

Louis laughs a bit louder this time, burying his nose in the spot behind Harry’s ear he seems to like so much. “We’ll figure it out, H. Me and you, we’re stuck together like glue, yeah?”

Harry isn’t sure whether he wants to smile or cry, so he settles for squeezing his eyes shut and bringing Louis’ hand up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Yeah.”

* * *

 

The Flat

Louis falls face first onto their bed, Harry a comforting albeit heavy weight on top of him. “Could’ve just asked me to lie down,” Louis points out, voice muffled by the duvet beneath him.

Harry’s giggles resonate somewhere around the back of Louis’ neck. “We live together,” he whispers in awe.

Louis feels his face soften at that, lips curving up in a smile because yeah, they do. “I know, Haz,” he replies, elbowing Harry’s stomach to get him to ease up a bit so he can roll over. Harry gets the hint, lifting up long enough for Louis to turn over beneath him before settling himself between Louis’ legs and propping himself up on Louis’ chest.

“I can’t believe we live together,” he continues incredulously, eyes sparkling and smile positively blinding. God, Louis is so in love with him. “This is our _home_ , Lou. We- we’re…we have a house. Together.”

Louis laughs, eyes crinkling in the corners, and pulls him down for a gentle kiss. “I know,” he repeats, chuckling into Harry’s mouth before pulling back and nudging their foreheads together. “Can you believe I’m willingly choosing to spend even more time with you? Shocking, really.”

Harry huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes, “Shut up. You love me, boo.”

Louis feels something in his chest tighten, hearing that - the nickname Harry had claimed for his own as soon as Jay told him that’s what she used to call Louis as a kid.

“Yeah, I do,” he replies, and maybe his voice is a little bit scratchy and maybe he feels a bit like he might start crying any minute now but it’s Harry so it’s okay. And it’s a lot because he still can’t believe this is real. That he gets to have this boy, every single piece of him. He gets to see him first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

And maybe it’s not ideal. They still have to lie and pretend and Louis is one-hundred percent certain it’ll get worse before it gets better but it’s enough, having Harry here with him right now. Just Harry, him, and their bed. That’ll always be enough.

“So, while I absolutely want to christen every single inch of this place,” Harry says with a sly grin, waggling his eyebrows ridiculously to make Louis laugh. “I’m kinda sleepy after moving everything in. Do you think we could take a nap for a little while?”

Louis nods, bites the inside of his mouth to stop his smile from becoming too outrageous and runs a hand through Harry’s curls. “Yeah, love, we can do that.”

They just stare at each other for a minute - eyes wide and a little disbelieving, cheeks flushed with happiness and smiles showing far too much teeth – before Louis can’t take it anymore and crushes Harry to him, locking his arms around him and burying his face in his neck.

Harry laughs but it sounds stuck in his throat, like maybe he’s holding back tears, before returning his embrace and squeezing him tightly.

Yeah. Just Harry and him and their bed.

It sounds pretty nice.

* * *

 

“What’re we doing today?” Harry asks around a yawn, burrowing closer to Louis’ warmth and fighting a losing battle in trying to open his eyes.

“Nothing,” Louis mutters, voice half-muffled. “We’re not doing anything today. Go back to sleep.”

Harry snorts, batting Louis’ hand away from where he’s trying to cover his mouth to stop him from talking. “Don’t we have that thing tonight with-“

“I cancelled that,” Louis answers before he can even finish his question.

“But-“

That’s as far as Harry gets before he hears a long-suffering sigh and he’s suddenly being flipped onto his back, Louis hovering over him.

“Har _old_ ,” Louis says menacingly – though honestly he looks like a disgruntled kitten, “We have literally not had a day off inmonths. Our schedules are clear today and therefore, we’re not leaving this bed unless it’s to make tea. Do you understand?”

Harry nods seriously, biting his lip to hold back his grin. A giggle escapes anyway and Louis groans, flopping down on top of him and letting out an involuntary laugh.

“Shut up,” Louis grouses into his collarbone, fingers scrabbling at Harry’s sides.

“Didn’t say anything,” Harry replies teasingly, wrapping his arms around Louis’ back and kissing whatever part of his head he can reach. “We can stay in bed today, Lou,” he adds, placating.

“Good, ‘cause I was gonna whether you stayed or not.”

“Heyyy,” Harry protests, tightening his arms around Louis and rolling them over until they’re both lying on their sides, legs tangled and faces smushed together in a way that makes Louis giggle into Harry’s mouth.

“Didn’t really judge the distance there, did you, H?”

“I liked you better when you were grumpy and sleepy.”

“Stop naming dwarves and gimme a proper cuddle,” Louis demands, squirming around so they’re not quite so tangled. He’s about to rearrange them into their earlier positions when Harry stops him.

“Wait.” Louis pauses, looking at him expectantly. Harry smiles bashfully, suddenly feeling his cheeks heat up because god, sometimes he remembers he gets to call Louis his and it can be kind of overwhelming if he thinks about it too hard. “Kiss first?” he requests.

Louis’ face breaks out into a smile and he hooks his fingers in Harry’s necklace to drag him forward into an achingly sweet kiss. “Better?” he asks when they break apart.

“Mm,” Harry hums, darting in for another one, two, maybe three quick brushes before he rolls onto his other side and lets Louis press up against his back, twining their hands together over Harry’s stomach.

“How about an actual lie-in this morning, then? Louis asks, lips dragging over Harry’s bare shoulder. “Think we can manage to sleep until the clock is in double digits for once?”

“Think ‘m definitely gonna try,” Harry replies, eyes drifting shut and sighing contentedly when Louis starts rubbing his thumbs in slow circles over the backs of Harry’s hands.

“Meet you for breakfast in bed in two hours?”

Harry laughs, eyes crinkling even as they remain shut and clutching Louis’ hands closer to his chest. “Deal.”

* * *

 

LA

Harry walks into their room in tears.

Louis is up and has his arms around him in seconds, shushing him and rubbing his back with one hand while the other curls through his hair.

“Love, what is it?” he asks gently, even though he knows. Of course he knows. There’s only one thing that’s happening right now that could have Harry like this. He swallows down his anger and focuses on taking care of Harry. That’s all that matters right now.

“They never said it’d be like this, Lou,” he whispers, voice wobbly and thin. “No one ever said it’d be this bad.”

Louis feels the words like a blow to the chest and he knows it’s only going to be the first of many. It’s going to get worse. They were all but told it was going to get worse. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do to make it stop hurting.

He settles for leading Harry over to the bed and bundling him up in his arms and that’s all they do for a while. He lets Harry cry because he needs to – Louis did, after the first time they made him hold hands with Eleanor – and he holds him as close as he possibly can, holding together broken parts of his boy until he can hold them together on his own again.

They sit there for a long time, just breathing each other in, because it’s a tossup, really, which one of them is handling this worse. But when they’re alone no one can touch them, they’re invincible.

Louis brushes his thumb over the spot on Harry’s arm – his spot – the spot he knows Harry has planned to get the ship and in that moment, he knows how to make it better.

He presses his thumb in gently, nudging Harry’s temple with his forehead, and murmurs, “C’mon, love. Let’s sail away.”

Harry turns to look at him, eyes still watery and brow furrowed. “What-“

“Let’s get them, H,” Louis whispers, eyes lighting up at the thought. The thought of Harry permanently inked into his skin.

Harry’s gaze catches on where Louis’ thumb is still pressed into his bicep and he realises what he’s talking about, mouth dropping open in surprise. “We said we were gonna wait…”

They did. But Louis’ tired of waiting.

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” Louis says with conviction. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life and there’s not a doubt in my mind that I will be. So this isn’t a proposal but it is a promise. When things get really bad and we’re kept apart and when we’re hurt and the media’s writing shit, we can look at them and we’ll know.”

“You’re my home,” Harry finishes quietly, eyes filling with tears for what Louis hopes is an entirely different reason as his lips start to lift up in a smile.

“And you’re mine,” Louis promises, laughing quietly because he’s crying and his life is shit but he is so, so in love with the boy sitting in his arms and it’s everything.

*

Twenty-four hours later Harry has a ship and Louis has a compass and home is a flat and a hotel room and a tour bus and a tattoo and a person.

* * *

 

The Flat

Lying is hard.

Lying is really fucking hard actually. It’s one thing calling their relationship a bromance and saying they live in a bachelor pad. It’s a whole other thing when lying involves holding hands with girls and kissing people that aren’t each other and the press in your face asking you how you feel about your best mate and his new girlfriend.

God and it’s just- Harry’s had to put up with this shit for a lot longer than Louis has. He’s had to deal with Eleanor’s presence since almost the very beginning but Louis can’t- _he can’t do it_.

He can’t watch Harry with Taylor, every single fucking time it’s like a punch to the gut and he _hates_ it.

It’s even worse because Harry knows. Harry knows how miserable Louis is and he blames himself. Like anything about this situation is their fault.

The problem is, Louis is stressed and he’s tired and he’s pissed off and Harry has to leave again and it’s making him snappy.

It means he yells at Harry. He doesn’t mean to but it happens. They don’t fight often, to be honest. Bickering? Sure. But actual big blow-out arguments are rare and are usually started by external stress rather than anything either of them do.

He says, “Well I’m sorry I _give a shit_ and this actually upsets me, unlike _you_ ,” and immediately feels the floor drop out from underneath him.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth he regrets them. Harry’s face goes blank with surprise before he flinches, like they physically hurt him, and it just makes the fist around his heart squeeze all the more tightly.

“I didn’t mean that,” he says quickly, hollowly, eyes wide and frightened. “Haz, I didn’t mean that.”

Harry nods but the action is numb, like he’s doing it out of habit more than anything else.

Louis crosses the room without even realising he’s doing it. He hesitates just a second before stepping into Harry’s space, carefully fitting his hands to the curve of Harry’s jaw. When he doesn’t make to move away Louis gently pushes their foreheads together and closes his eyes against the tears threatening to fall.

“I love you,” he whispers, he thinks he almost chokes on it anyway. “I love you so much. I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at this stupid situation and I’m taking it out on you and that’s not fair. I’m so sorry, baby.”

Harry sighs like a defeat and drops his head onto Louis’ shoulder, folding his arms around him. “It’s okay,” he replies.

The wetness on the side of Louis’ neck suggests it’s very much _not_ okay but he doesn’t say anything, terrified Harry will leave too soon if he does.

“I know this isn’t easy for you either,” he says, gently coaxing his fingers through Harry’s curls and feeling him shudder. “I never meant to make you feel like I thought it was.”

“Lou?” Harry asks, voice soft and small. “Can we just- can we just lie down for a while? I don’t really- I’m just-“ He huffs, frustrated at himself for not being able to get the words out and Louis is furious at himself for making him upset.

“Can we just lie down for a while?” Harry says finally. “It’s just- I don’t have much time ‘til I have to…”

He trails off, not saying what they’re both thinking. Harry’s about to leave again, won’t be sleeping in the same bed as Louis tonight or tomorrow or probably the night after that either.

“Yeah, love, come on.” Louis drops his arms from around Harry, instead catching his hand. He tries to smile when their eyes meet but it falls flat, it doesn’t matter because Harry can’t manage to return it anyway.

Harry doesn’t turn to face away from Louis when they both climb in, instead he makes Louis lie flat on his back and rests his head on Louis’ chest. He thinks Harry might be listening to his heartbeat, if the gentle tap-tap of his fingers on Louis' chest is anything to go by.

He winds his arms around Harry, one of his hands snaking out so his fingers catch on Harry’s. The other boy’s only response is to fold their fingers together.

“I hate this,” Harry whispers tremulously when they’ve been quiet a few minutes. “It’s not fair.”

Louis feels the tears he’s been holding back finally slip out and buries his free hand in Harry’s hair. “I know.”

“You’re the one I want to be with. You’re the one I wanna tell the world about. I can’t- it’s not-“

Louis shushes him - mostly because he can’t hear much more without feeling sick – and urges him up. Harry moves up his body, tucking his face into the crook of Louis’ neck as their arms and legs cling to each other.

“If I could change it I would,” Louis promises, voice paper thin and collapsing. It still doesn’t feel like enough.

“I know,” Harry replies, releasing a shaky breath. “I don’t want to fight, Lou,” he adds a moment later and Louis curses himself again.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry,” he says desperately. He’s probably holding Harry too tightly right now but he can’t make himself let go. “I don’t wanna fight with you either.”

“’m not mad,” Harry promises, running a soothing hand over Louis’ arm. “I just- that’s what they want, y’know? They want us to fight and break up so the problem will go away. But I love you too much to ever let them do that.”

“We’re not breaking up, love,” Louis says finitely because if there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s that. “’m never gonna let them take you from me, they’ve already taken enough.”

“Pinky promise?” Harry asks, raising his left hand and holding his little finger out.

Louis smiles, feels so fucking full of love for this boy, and latches his finger with Harry’s. “Pinky promise.”

“You can’t break pinky promises, y’know?” Harry mumbles, words lost to Louis’ collarbones.

“I don’t intend to,” Louis whispers in reply, twisting their hands so their fingers lace together more comfortably. “Go to sleep, H. I’ll wake you up when you need to leave.”

“Don’t wanna sleep, just wanna lie with you for a little while longer.”

Louis swallows hard, screws his eyes shut and wills his tears to hold off until Harry’s gone. His voice is hoarse when he starts talking but it’s better than nothing. “We can do that too.”

He lets Harry’s heavy breaths lull him into a false sense of security and for a little while he can pretend that there’s no one else in the world.

Just him and Harry and their bed.

* * *

 

Harry is tired. So fucking tired. Almost two months’ worth of bullshit catching up with him and making the bags under his eyes puffy, making his bones ache. He hasn’t slept in his own bed for weeks and he just- he wants to go home.

He finally gets to go home.

The flat is silent when he steps through the front door, gently closing it behind him. Louis’ probably asleep – Harry’s flight wasn’t meant to be for another few days but he couldn’t- he couldn’t wait any longer.

He toes off his shoes and drops his bag by the coat rack before tiptoeing through the flat and shouldering the door to their bedroom open as gently as he can. Sure enough, Louis is fast asleep, drowning in a sea of blankets in the middle of their bed, little tufts of golden brown hair peeking out over the top of the blankets. Nothing has ever looked more like heaven.

Harry shrugs off his joggers as he steps into the room, dropping them carelessly on the floor before padding over to the bed and lifting up one corner of the covers. Louis frowns at the intrusion of cold air, forehead wrinkling and nose scrunching up. Harry wants to kiss every inch of his skin and then kiss him again.

He pulls the blankets up to his chest once he’s settled, arms reaching out to curl around Louis and pull him closer. Louis’ eyes blink open at that, a crinkle appearing between his brows in confusion.

“Harry?” he asks.

“Yeah, baby,” Harry whispers, tugging him closer. Louis moves willingly now, limbs heavy with sleep but still slotting around Harry. “Go back to sleep.”

“You’re home,” Louis murmurs, eyes still only half open, but there’s wonder in his voice.

Harry smiles, has the inexplicable desire to cry, and kisses his forehead. “Yeah.”

Louis’ eyelashes flutter in the pale morning light and Harry has never loved him more. His hands travel up until they’re framing Harry’s face and he breaks out into the sleepiest, happiest smile Harry’s seen from him in a long time.

“My Hazza,” he mumbles quietly, eyes closing again as he leans in.

Their noses brush together and Harry curls one of his hands in Louis’ hair, easing his head to rest in the crook of Harry’s neck.

“Love you,” Louis mouths against the sliver of skin peeking out from under the collar of his t-shirt. “Missed you.”

Harry feels the corners of his mouth tug up in an affectionate smile and presses a kiss to Louis’ hair. “Love you too, boo. Get some more sleep, yeah? I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Louis hums in answer, pressing in closer, and Harry finally closes his eyes.

It’s the best sleep he’s had in months.

* * *

 

The Tour Bus

The bunks on their bus aren’t meant to fit two people, they’re just not. That doesn’t stop him and Louis though.

They do try sometimes to sleep in separate beds because really, one of them is gonna hurt themselves if they keep trying to squeeze into one bunk but it’s just- they can’t sleep in separate beds.

Well they can, when they have to, but not when their bunks are stacked right on top of each other and they’re basically within touching distance if they both reach their arms out.

“Lou, can you just-“ Harry huffs, narrowly missing elbowing Louis in the face as he tries to turn onto his side.

“Harold, if you kick my shin one more time-“

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to-“

“Will you-“

A bump in the road makes them lose their balance, both suddenly rolling into each other and smacking their foreheads together.

There’s a moment of complete silence where they’re both clutching their foreheads in pain but then they take one look at each other and they’re breaking down in a fit of giggles.

“Are you okay?” Louis wheezes, eyes scrunched up tight from laughing as he tries to kiss Harry’s forehead better.

“’m fine,” Harry gasps, little bubbles of laughter escaping every time he tries to speak. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Louis replies, leaning in to peck Harry’s lips before it just turns into another laugh against his mouth.

“Think the bottom bunk might be safer?”

“I think we’re kind of stuck in here and if we try to get out we’ll definitely fall.”

Harry barks out another laugh until he remembers the others are trying to sleep and claps a hand over his mouth.

Louis just rolls his eyes exasperatedly. “What are we going to do with you, Curly?”

Harry shrugs in the tiny space, “Keep me forever, hopefully.”

Louis’ eyes are glinting in the faded light of the bus and his smile is something quiet when he tucks a hand in Harry’s hair and pulls him in for a kiss.

They eventually figure out Louis can safely lie on his back with Harry’s head pillowed on his chest without either of them causing each other bodily harm. Louis keeps his hand carding through Harry’s hair and Harry is playing with the fingers on his other hand and he knows.

They’re gonna keep each other forever.

* * *

 

The House

“Harry, you’re sick.”

“’M not sick, Lou,” Harry whines, cheeks flushed and voice crackling in and out. “’m find.”

“Haz, you’re adding ‘d’s to your words, you’re sick,” Louis replies reasonably, rolling his eyes fondly at Harry’s scowl. Harry’s the worst when he’s sick because he loves to pretend he’s _not_ sick and then makes himself even sicker.

Harry petulantly crosses his arms over his chest – the effect of which is kind of lost when he sneezes and has to scrub his curls back off his face.

Louis huffs out a breath, smile softening into something tender because Harry just looks so sleepy and miserable and he wants to make him feel better.

“I’m calling the lads,” he announces, fishing his phone out of his hoodie pocket.

“No, Lou, don’t-“

“Haz,” Louis cuts him off, pressing a hand to his shoulder to keep him sitting back against the pillows. “We can rehearse tomorrow, it’s fine. You’re not gonna be much use like this anyway.”

“But-“

Louis laughs, shaking his head and kneeling up on the bed so they’re eye level. “Love, will you please lie down so I can make you tea and fuss over you?”

Harry stares at him for a minute, eyes heavy and nose sniffling, before he eventually sighs and hangs his head. “Okay.”

Louis smiles at him and kisses his temple. “Alright, I’m making you tea, at least pretend to rest?”

Harry makes a vague unintelligible grumble but it’s probably as close to a “yes” Louis’ gonna get right now so he lets it go. He calls Zayn while he boils the kettle, trusting him to relay the change in plans to the others. It’s their week off anyway, they were just meant to meet with their vocal coach for a check-in – she won’t mind waiting another day or so.

He returns to their room with two cups of tea, stopping short when he sees Harry dozing. He feels his lips quirk in a smile, carefully setting the mugs down on the nightstand and crawling onto the bed to slip into the empty space next to Harry.

“Nooo,” Harry whimpers, eyebrows furrowing when Louis wraps his arms around him. “You’ll get sick.”

“I’m sorry, did you just admit you’re sick, Harold?”

Harry’s silent a moment and Louis grins, triumphant. “…No?” he answers eventually.

Louis barks out a laugh, pressing a kiss to the back of Harry’s neck. Harry makes a huffy noise in the back of his throat before he starts coughing, curling in on himself and convulsing. Louis settles for rubbing soothing circles on his back and reaching over him to grab the tea off the nightstand once he’s calmed down, offering it to Harry with a small smile after he sits up.

“Thanks,” Harry mutters, eyes downcast and cheeks a little rosy, as he accepts the cup. He takes a sip, frowning slightly as he does – probably because it’s started to cool down – before slouching and dropping his head onto Louis’ shoulder.

Louis sighs contentedly, fitting his arms around Harry’s shoulders and propping his cheek on top of Harry’s hair. “Wanna watch a movie while I play with your hair until you fall asleep?”

There’s a pause and Louis can’t see his face but he’d be willing to bet their entire savings account that Harry’s dimples are on full display right now.

“Yeah,” Harry answers, throat still hoarse but at least he sounds like he’s perked up a bit.

Louis reluctantly gets up to rifle through their DVD collection, already knowing they’re going to end up watching Love, Actually regardless because Harry is sick and he gets free reign when he’s sick. Once he’s started it up he throws the remote to Harry and climbs back onto the bed. It takes some shuffling around but eventually he’s sitting with his back against the pillows, Harry in between his legs and leaning back against his chest, with the blankets tucked up around them. And it’s just- it’s nice.

Their life is very rarely quiet now. They don’t get many moments like this and yeah it’s shit that the only reason they do now is because Harry has the flu but it’s okay. It’s nice to just stop, even for a few seconds and realise that no matter what else changes in their lives, they’ll always have this.

There’s gonna come a day when the shows and the rehearsals and the albums and all of it are gonna stop.

But this never will.

* * *

 

Harry takes one look at the group crowded around Louis and knows he’s not okay. “Lou!” he calls when he’s close enough, watching as Louis raises his head and feeling his heart clench in his chest. Louis is pale and sweating, eyes red-rimmed and heavy, football uniform looking too big on him.

Harry quickens his pace, crashing into Louis without a second thought and enveloping him in a hug.

“Harry?” Louis asks, voice timid and wavering and Louis should never sound like that. Louis is loud, loud, loud.

“Yeah, babe, I’m here,” Harry whispers, closing eyes and drawing his hands up Louis’ back.

That’s all it takes for the dam to break and for Louis to burst into tears, fingers scrunched up in the back of Harry’s jacket and body shaking in Harry’s embrace.

Harry tightens his grip, swaying them gently in an attempt to soothe him. “Shhh, shh baby, I’ve got you, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

He makes eye contact with Jay over Louis’ shoulder – she’s hovering nearby, looking like she wants to reach out and hug them both - and she smiles sadly, shaking her head. Harry closes his eyes again, blindly kissing Louis’ temple.

Louis doesn’t stop, gets a bit quieter maybe, but Harry knows his coat is stained with tears and he can still feel Louis shaking in his arms. He seems so small like this, so breakable. Harry _hates_ it.

Jay places a hand on Harry’s arm to get his attention, telling him under her breath that they’re ~~~~heading off to the car. Harry nods, spots Eleanor out of the corner of his eye looking unsure before she follows Louis’ mum and Dan down the corridor.

“Lou,” Harry murmurs once they’re gone. “Baby.” He pulls back just a little, just enough to get a look at Louis’ face, and gently smudges away the tears with his thumb.

“It was really bad, H.” Louis’ face crumples again and Harry presses forward so their foreheads are resting together before kissing his cheek.

“Hey, listen to me yeah? I am so, so proud of you, okay? No matter what happened tonight, Lou, I love you so much.”

Louis nods, Harry suspects he does it more in an effort to placate him rather than actually agreeing with him.

“I mean it,” Harry says lowly, hands cupping Louis’ cheeks as the tips of their shoes press together.

“I love you,” Louis replies, voice wobbly, and Harry offers him a smile.

“How about you grab your stuff from the locker room, yeah? Let me take you home.”

Louis lets out a shaky breath, nodding his head like he’s steeling himself.

Harry watches him walk into the changing room – shoulders squared and trembling - with a dull ache in his chest. He knew things were getting to be too much. He knew Louis was stressed and tired, he knew he needed to fucking _be here_ tonight.

He supposes the fact that he even managed to get here at all when he was meant to be stuck in LA was a blessing but still, he should have been here from the very beginning, sitting in the stands with his family and cheering him on.

He doesn’t know what happened or what’s wrong – he suspects he’ll probably have a text from Jay when he next checks his phone – all he knows is that Louis is upset and Louis needs him and the rest of the sodding world could be on fire right now and he wouldn’t care.

Louis emerges from the changing room a moment later, jacket over his arm and gear bag slung across his chest. He looks close to collapsing under the weight of his own heart.

Harry settles an arm over his shoulder immediately, tucking him into his side. “Let’s go home, Lou.”

Louis nods with his face pressed into Harry’s coat, breathing him in. It’s something Louis does sometimes – when they’ve sat through a particularly awful interview or meeting, when one of them has a bad stunt day – he told Harry once it makes him feel grounded, reminds him why they’re doing this.

Harry swallows hard, feels his own eyes starting to burn with unshed tears, and ushers him outside to the car.

Louis cries the whole ride home, face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck and fingers twisted in Harry’s coat. Harry gently shushes him, mouth never leaving Louis’ temple and arms a constant presence around him. He doesn’t know what else to do.

Harry draws a bath once they get back to the house, gently tugging Louis out of his sweaty uniform and guiding him to the bathroom.

He makes Louis climb in first, getting in behind him a moment later. Harry moves them around until Louis’ sitting between his legs, his back resting against Harry’s chest and his head tucked under Harry’s chin.

Harry’s back is leaning against the cool porcelain and he knows it’ll probably start to hurt like hell if they stay in here for too long but it’s the least of his worries right now.

He covers Louis hands with his own, watching Louis’ slowly unfurl so their fingers can fold together.

Louis is quiet as Harry carefully presses feather light kisses along his jaw, the only thing suggesting he’s aware of what’s going on at all is the way he tilts his head ever so slightly to give Harry better access. It takes a while but eventually Louis emits a tiny sigh, eyes drifting shut as his neck arches.

Harry smiles against his throat, letting go of one of Louis’ hands to slide it up his chest. “Feeling a bit better, babe?”

“Mm,” Louis hums, eyes drowsily blinking as he runs his thumb over the “I can’t change” on Harry’s wrist.

“H,” Louis starts when they’ve been quiet for another minute or two. His voice is hoarse from crying and he still has tear tracks on his face.

“Yeah, Lou?”

“It’s gonna be worth it one day, right?” he asks, voice small like he’s afraid to even mention it out loud.

Harry blinks back the tears that’ve filled his eyes – quite positive a couple slip out anyway – and takes a second to compose himself before he starts speaking because _jesus christ_ \- Louis doesn’t deserve this. Louis doesn’t deserve to always be the punching bag, to always be the one that has to be strong and protect the band. He deserves to be fucking happy.

Harry just wants him to be happy.

“Yeah, love,” Harry whispers, kissing behind Louis’ ear. “It’s gonna be so worth it. We’ll get through it.”

“ _We will find our way through the dark_ ,” Louis half-sings under his breath and Harry feels so fucking full of love for this boy, he never wants to let go of him.

“We just need to hold on a little bit longer,” he replies gently, fingers slipping around the rope on Louis’ wrist.

Louis doesn’t answer him for a while, just keeps running his fingers along whatever part of Harry is in within arm’s reach, but eventually he whispers, “I think it’ll be worth it too.”

*

Harry bundles them into bed not long after, winding his arms around Louis and tangling their legs under the covers. Harry’s never the big spoon, hasn’t been since they were sneaking into each other’s beds in the X Factor house, but Louis needs to be protected tonight. He needs to be surrounded by love, he needs to be cared for.

It’s probably a testament to how terrible Louis’ feeling that he doesn’t fight it, just turns over on his side to burrow his face in Harry’s chest rather than having his back to him.

Harry kisses his hair and messily traces “I love you” on Louis’ back with his index finger, pulling Louis just that little bit closer when he feels him exhale a shuddery breath.

“Don’t let me go,” Louis whispers, so faintly Harry almost doesn’t catch it. But he does. He hears the echo of his own words whispered into his chest, over his heart, by the person he loves most in the entire world and his throat feels thick with emotion.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight and cradles Louis to him, wishing he could meld them together, wishing he could let Louis climb inside his bones and keep him safe from the world.

“Never.”

* * *

 

The Brits

“Say tea!” Harry commands, drawing out the “eee” sound and making a face at Louis when he rolls his eyes.

The picture’s still cute anyway; Louis’ hair pushed back off his face and that stupid mini teapot held up to his mouth. Harry hands the phone off to Louis and lets him upload it, taking a sip of his own tea while he watches.

“Maybe there’s hope for your photography skills yet, Harold,” Louis comments idly, laughing when Harry kicks him under the table.

The other boys are flitting in and out, wandering from hair and make up to wardrobe to craft services. Harry and Louis are still only half dressed, sitting at their own tiny little table for two and having lunch. Everyone knows better than to bother them by now – they always tend to get a little clingy on event days before the cameras invade their space.

“This is nice,” Harry says, interrupting Louis gesticulating wildly as he tells a story, the fucking teapot still in his hand.

Louis stops talking, blinking at Harry before his face softens and he hooks his foot around Harry’s under the table.

“Y’know sometimes it feels a little bit like we’re getting ready for a wedding or something when we’re at these things,” Louis admits in what he probably means to be an offhand way. It still sends a rush through Harry though.

“Oh yeah? You really think it’ll be this calm at our wedding?” Harry asks, eyebrow raised.

“Who says it’ll be _our_ wedding? Honestly Harry, don’t be so self-absorbed,” Louis retorts haughtily, but his smile betrays him. It always does.

“You really think one of those three will be married before us?” Harry asks incredulously, nodding his head in the vague direction of where Zayn’s asleep on the couch.

“Maybe.” And honestly it’s no wonder they stopped making denials in person because Louis can’t lie for shit. (Like Harry’s any better.)

“Louis Tomlinson, are you thinking about our wedding day right now?” Harry can feel his grin threatening to split his face but he doesn’t care, he’s just getting hit all over again with the fact that he gets to spend the rest of his life with the boy sitting in front of him.

“Pfft no,” Louis protests, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly until Harry throws a napkin at him.

“You so were!” Harry accuses, delighted at the flush on Louis’ cheeks – it’s always near impossible to make him blush, it makes it all the sweeter when Harry does.

“Alright fine,” Louis acquiesces, setting down the teapot and looking Harry in the eye. “I look around at everyone running around like headless chickens and the five of us getting dressed up in suits and it feels like- for a few minutes I forget where we are and it feels like I’m about to tell the world I’m spending the rest of my life with you.”

Harry feels his breath catch at the tender tone Louis’ adopted and it takes everything he has not to shove the table out of the way to kiss him senseless. Because god, he wants that. He wants to walk down the aisle with Louis. He wants to stand up in front of everyone they love and say that they made it. That it was worth it. That they’re there in this for as long as they live and whatever the hell comes after that.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” The teasing lilt in his voice is back but Harry hardly notices, just bites his lip to suppress his smile and nods.

*

They’re late. Of course they’re late, they’re always late and they have literally two minutes before they need to go take their seats but Louis’ kissing him and his hands are untucking Harry’s shirt and Lou and Caroline are going to _kill_ them when they get hold of them but- Louis’ kissing him.

“We need to go,” Harry mumbles, dragging his lips away from Louis’ mouth to kiss along his jaw. He smirks when Louis’ hands instantly slide into his hair, pulling him closer.

“Mhm,” Louis hums non-committedly, hands tugging on the curls between his fingers as he arches his neck to give Harry better access.

“We’re gon’ be late.” His words are slurring, lost to the feel of his lips on Louis’ skin and he knows objectively he’s making sense but Louis keeps letting out these breathy little sighs and he just really doesn’t care about an award show right now.

“They’re probably lookin’ for us,” Louis replies airily, urging Harry’s head up to lock their lips together again.

Harry nods, disconnecting their mouths for a second before brushing them against each other once more. His elbow’s digging into the couch cushion by Louis’ shoulder and the sofa’s definitely too small to fit both of them on comfortably but one of Louis’ hands is wandering under his shirt and every time Harry grinds his hips down he sees stars.

His hand fumbles on the button of Louis jeans and Louis’ pulling him down, pulling him _closer_ and Harry’s pretty much resigned himself to the fact they’re gonna be late but then-

“There you are I- oh for fuck’s sake.”

They both freeze, honestly not even embarrassed anymore because they’ve lost count of the amount of times the boys have walked in on them in the last three and a half years.

Sighing, Harry pulls away, turning to glare at Liam in the doorway – he’s pretty sure Louis does the same thing.

Liam just regards them with an unimpressed look and raises his eyebrows. “Are you coming?”

“Well we were about to if you hadn’t-“

Liam throws up his hands in exasperation and spins on his heel, dramatically stomping out of the room.

Harry breaks down into a fit of giggles, muffling it against Louis’ shoulder when he hears Liam’s disgruntled yell of, “They’re on their way!”

“Rain-check?”

Louis heaves a long-suffering sigh, ducking in to peck Harry’s lips once more and murmuring, “Fine.”

* * *

 

The House

Louis can’t sleep.

He hates this fucking bed. Well- he doesn’t when Harry’s here but without him it’s too big and it’s not fair and Louis can’t sleep.

Three days. Just three days until they’re together again and Louis swears he’s gonna sleep for at least forty-eight hours and not let Harry out of his sight even once. And it’s just- they haven’t even been apart that long. It’s been five days but it’s been five days of tossing and turning and sleepless nights because he doesn’t have Harry.

He just misses Harry.

With a sigh, he rolls his head to the side to read the time on his alarm clock. It’s just past 5a.m, 9p.m in L.A then. He reaches a hand out for the bedside table, fumbling until his fingers catch on his phone.

It rings three times before Harry picks up, breathing out a soft, “Lou,” when the line connects.

“Hey babe,” Louis replies around a yawn, tugging the covers up around his shoulders.

“Can’t sleep?” Harry asks gently, voice soothing and everything Louis needs.

“S’not the same when you’re not here,” he grumbles groggily. He really needs to learn how to sleep on his own, his body clock is gonna take ages to adjust to the jetlag next week if he doesn’t get a decent night’s sleep soon.

“I’m sorry.” And that’s the thing, Harry sounds so fucking sorry, so fucking upset because Louis can’t last five minutes without him. It makes guilt sit heavily in Louis’ stomach. “If it helps, I can’t sleep either,” Harry adds a moment later.

That causes him to smile just a little because he might be an overly co-dependent idiot but at least they’re co-dependent idiots together.

“I’m booking a flight tomorrow,” Louis decides.

“Lou-“

“No, H. I don’t care. I miss you and I miss sleeping next to you. I’m flying to LA tomorrow.”

Harry’s silent for a while before he eventually breathes out a laugh. “Is it selfish of me to be ridiculously relieved right now?”

Louis snorts, mutters a “probably” and can practically see Harry rolling his eyes on the other end of the line.

“The bags under my eyes have bags,” Harry complains. “I need my big spoon back.”

“And people say I’m the sappy one, honestly Haz-“

“Heyyy,” Harry protests and Louis bites his lip to stop himself from smiling.

“Stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?” he requests and he can hear the fondness in Harry’s voice as he answers.

“Always.”

* * *

 

Backstage

Louis loves when they get to the venue early. There’s always less rushing around, everyone is relaxed, nobody’s yelling and best of all, he and Harry get to have their pre-show nap.

Right now they’re tucked up together on the couch in their dressing room. Harry’s dead to the world, hand loosely clasping Louis’ where it’s resting over his chest, and Louis is just on the brink of sleep, eyelids heavy and limbs feeling weightless.

Of course Niall has to interrupt them.

He doesn’t notice at first, too warm and comfortable to hear anyone else in the room, but slowly he becomes aware of soft footfalls pacing nearby. He frowns slightly, burying his face deeper in Harry’s curls and hoping it’s just one of the lads borrowing a phone charger or something.

Then he hears it.

“Lou,” Niall whispers and Louis might only be half awake but he can absolutely hear the stupid grin on his face. “Lou,” he repeats.

“G’way,” Louis mumbles, getting a mouthful of curls for his troubles.

Niall just continues calling his name until Louis huffs and cracks an eye open. He’s greeted with Niall’s poor attempt to suppress a laugh and an iPhone in the face.

“What are you doing?” he whines, pressing his face into Harry’s shoulder and groaning when Niall makes a noise suspiciously close to laughing.

“Just making sure I have enough footage for the wedding speech!” Niall exclaims, skipping out of reach with a cackle when Louis throws a cushion at him.

“I’m tripping you on stage later and it won’t be an accident,” Louis threatens half-heartedly, ignoring Niall’s hearty laugh as he slips out of the room.

“S’goin’ on?” Harry asks, shifting under Louis’ arm.

“Niall’s not allowed to be your best man anymore.”

Harry smacks his lips, breathing out a, “’kay,” as he burrows deeper into the cushions.

Louis chuckles under his breath, kissing his shoulder before pressing his nose to the nape of Harry’s neck and closing his own eyes. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

All things considered, it’s still a pretty good nap.

* * *

 

The House

They honestly shouldn’t even be surprised anymore, yet somehow it still knocks the breath out of them every time someone from management retaliates.

Harry finds Louis sitting on their sofa, phone in hand, eyes staring blankly at the screen.

“Lou?” Harry asks cautiously, edging over to the couch. He’d seen the tweet as soon as it’d been sent, his phone pinging with an alert and interrupting him answering his emails.

Louis doesn’t reply, gaze still fixed on his phone. The screen’s faded to black by now because he hasn’t touched it in so long.

They should’ve known this would happen; the rainbow shirt and refusing to play ball during the livestream, it was too much.

As if they honestly deserve to be fucking punished for refusing to lie about how rumours about their relationship piss them off.

As if Louis deserves to be punished for trying to show support for his own fucking community for five minutes.

And it’s just- it’s not fair that they keep having to pick each other up off the ground and put back together the broken pieces when it’s not their fault they’re broken in the first place.

Harry carefully lays a hand on his back and Louis lets out a breath like a gasp, shoulders concaving under Harry’s touch.

“Hey,” Harry murmurs soothingly, and starts rubbing Louis’ back, leaning his forehead against Louis’ temple. “Lou, talk to me.”

Louis turns his face, meets Harry’s gaze with eyes that scream of far too much torment for a twenty-two year old and Harry’s heart breaks for approximately the thousandth time in the last four years.

Harry pulls Louis to his chest before the first tears have a chance to fall and feels him heave a sob against his collarbone.

“I’ve got you,” Harry promises, squeezing his own eyes shut in a vain attempt to keep himself from crying, and presses his face into Louis’ hair.

“It’s- s’not…f-fair.” Louis’ voice shakes and Harry just- he wants to whisk him away, hide out on some secluded island and keep him safe until their contract ends.

“I know.”

“I just want- why can’t we just fucking be ourselves, H?” Louis’ hands are curled in the front of Harry’s jumper, twisting and tugging on the material, and Harry can feel a wet patch on his shoulder from Louis’ tears and this shouldn’t feel so goddamn familiar, this shouldn’t be happening _again_.

“Hey,” Harry says again, swallowing around the thickness in his throat. “Look at me.”

Louis sits up, hand locking around Harry’s wrist when he brings his own up to frame Louis’ face. He’s still beautiful with tear tracks on his cheeks.

“We’ll get through this,” Harry promises. “Just like we got through ever other shit thing they’ve thrown at us. And it hurts right now and it’s probably gonna hurt next year too but we can fucking _do_ this, Louis. They can’t break us, we won’t let them.”

Louis nods, tears still streaming steadily and breath hitching every couple of seconds. “It just gets really hard to feel like I’m not broken sometimes, Haz,” he confesses tremulously. “Sometimes it feels like they’re the only ones winning.”

Harry can’t stop his own tears from spilling over even though he tries. He cradles Louis’ face in his hands, kisses his wet cheek and just looks at him. Looks at them, sitting on their couch with red-rimmed eyes and heavy hearts and he thinks this isn’t right. It shouldn’t still hurt like this.

“Then let’s fight back,” he says eventually, voice hoarse from swallowing back his cries.

Louis’ eyes regain their focus and he blinks at Harry, sniffling. “What?”

“Let’s fight back,” he repeats. “They can take a lot of stuff away from us, Louis, but they can’t take everything.”

Harry’s hands slip from Louis’ jaw, sliding down to catch his hands and he knows Louis’ gaze follows his when they land on the rope and anchor.

Louis looks up at his face again and he nods, defiant and sure. His hands are tight in Harry’s and there’s the tiniest hint of a smile slowly starting to spread on his lips. Harry’s never been more relieved to see it in his life.

“Babe,” he says slowly. “I think I know what my next tattoo is gonna be.”

* * *

 

Australia

“I can’t believe you got it,” Harry whispers, and Louis can see his smile even in the dark.

“I told you I would,” he replies, feeling his lips curl up in an involuntary grin like he’s been doing for about three hours now.

“I know but- _still_.” Harry’s playing with his hands, their fingers linked loosely between them, and Louis’ eyes catch on the medical tape still wrapped around his forearm. He got the dagger. He fucking got the dagger. He actually did it. Harry’s voice makes him snap out of his self-congratulations and look up again.

“’m proud of you,” Harry continues softly. “I mean, I’m always proud of you…But yeah, I’m really proud of you, Lou.”

He doesn’t know how Harry does it, doesn’t know he manages to always be so honest, doesn’t know how he gets that special quality to his voice that makes Louis’ heart thump heavily in his chest.

“ _Haz_ ,” he says because nothing else will do but he has to say something. _I did it for you_ , he thinks. _And for me, I did it for me too._ _But I’ll always do it for you_.

“You’re so brave,” Harry says, finger tracing so, so carefully over his covered up arm. “You’re always so brave.”

“Had to let the world know I loved you, didn’t I?” he teases gently, smiling softly when he sees Harry’s eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I love you too.” Harry leans in and brushes their lips together, his curls tickling Louis’ cheek. “Now give me a cuddle, been waiting a year to do this.”

Louis laughs, too loud for the quiet of the room, but dutifully slides up behind Harry when he rolls onto his opposite side. He settles his arm over Harry’s and feels Harry’s little intake of breath when he does.

They’re quiet for a few minutes, breathing slowing down as they relax. He’s not sure which one of them starts the other off. But one minute they’re lying in the dark on the brink of sleep and the next they’re giggling like a pair of twelve year olds.

“This is so _weird_ ,” Harry breathes out between a laugh.

“I know,” Louis wheezes, muffling his laugh in Harry’s curls. “S’nice though.”

Harry sobers up a bit, little laughs bubbling out here and there, his thumb drawing circles on the back of Louis’ hand. “Yeah, it is.”

They still don’t manage to fall asleep until about an hour later, too busy laughing into each other’s mouths and trying to find the exact way to align their arms so it sits right. But it’s worth it.

* * *

 

An Airplane

The plane is oddly quiet once they leave the rush of LAX. It feels like they’re outside time, above the clouds in their own world.

Once the plane has taken off Louis casts a glance over at Harry and asks, “How’re you feeling?” He nudges Harry’s side with his elbow, trying and failing not to grin like an idiot.

Harry’s smile matches his own and his nose crinkles when he starts talking. “Feels a bit weird, doesn’t it?”

Louis nods, staring at Harry for a minute longer before they both burst out laughing. “We’re publicly flying together for the first time in two years,” he breathes, head lolling back against the head ~~~~rest and rolling it to the side so he’s still facing Harry.

“Two years,” Harry repeats in awe. His eyes are sparkling and with them tucked away in their own little cubicle they could be the only two people on the plane. “Things are getting better, aren’t they?”

Louis nods, letting his smile reach his eyes as he takes Harry’s hand and folds their fingers together. “Yeah,” he says softly. “They are, H.”

“Feels good.” Harry sighs contentedly, slouching down to rest his head on Louis shoulder. Louis immediately lets go of his hand and opens his arms to accommodate him. It takes a few seconds of manoeuvring around but once they get comfortable Harry pulls the on-board blanket out of its plastic wrapper and spreads it out over their laps.

“Wanna take a nap?”

Louis hums, letting his cheek rest on top of Harry’s head. “Suppose we’ve got time, don’t we?”

“Fourteen hours.”

“So how badly do you think everyone’s freaking out right now?” Louis asks because it’s fun, sometimes, to know that this isn’t just a big deal for them. That there are other people supporting them, people they’ve never even met.

“Pretty sure Tumblr and Twitter are in a state of emergency,” Harry laughs, a giggle that makes him sound so much like his younger self Louis can’t help but hold him a little tighter.

Louis closes his eyes once they’ve quieted down, letting out a breath and feeling his body slowly start to relax against Harry’s.

It’s a few minutes later, after they’ve settled into a comfortable silence, that Harry speaks up, “Lou?”

“Yeah, love?”

“We’re nearly there, aren’t we?”

He’s not talking about the flight and Louis knows, can feel it in the weight behind his words, can feel it in the way his heart beats heavily in his chest.

“Yeah, Haz,” he promises. “We’re nearly there.”

* * *

 

LA

Harry feels jittery.

It’s stupid because it’s only been three and a half weeks but- _it’s been three and a half weeks._ It’s the longest he and Louis have ever spent apart in five whole years.

And he just- he’s missed his boy and he’s sick of shitty skype connection and timezones and only sending each other kisses via text.

Basically, it’s been the longest three and a half weeks of Harry’s life.

He’s sitting in the private arrivals lounge that’s otherwise empty, watching the door like a hawk, biting on a hangnail and jiggling his leg incessantly. Louis’ plane landed ten minutes ago, he shouldn’t be much longer.

When the door to the lounge opens Harry feels his breath catch as he practically leaps out of his seat. Louis steps through the door, clothes slightly rumpled from the flight and eyes tired but they still light up when they land on Harry.

And like every stupid cliché movie of all time, Harry runs forward, sweeping Louis into his arms and lifting him up off the ground.

Louis laughs into his ear, locking his arms around Harry’s neck and holding on tight.

“I missed you so much,” Harry says from where his face is buried in Louis’ neck as he sets him back down on the floor.

“I missed you,” he repeats, planting a kiss to Louis’ neck, “so,” and his jaw, “much,” and finally he lands on Louis’ lips.

Louis’ hands frame his face as he rights the angle, pulling Harry in closer and managing to hold back his smile for all of about five seconds before they end up just grinning into each other’s mouths.

“I love you,” Louis exhales on a laugh, lips still bumping against Harry’s. “I missed you.” His eyes are shining and no, no Louis can’t cry. Because if Louis cries Harry will cry and Harry’s enough of a mess as it is.

“I missed you too,” a voice adds pointedly and Harry tears his gaze away from Louis to see Alberto watching them with a smirk.

Harry snorts, reluctantly stepping away from Louis and opening his arms. “You know I missed you, Al.”

Alberto scoffs, shooing him away with a pat on the back. “Yeah, yeah. Go hug your boy, H.”

Harry spins back around on his heel immediately, grin splitting his face as he wraps himself around Louis again. “Let’s go home, Lou.”

*

As soon as they’re in the car Louis curls into his side, head tucked under Harry’s chin and fingers tangled in the cross around Harry’s neck.

“D’you have a good flight?”

“Mm,” Louis hums tiredly. “Tried to sleep for most of it but I kept waking up.”

“Did you sleep at all in the last month?” Harry asks, thumb sweeping over the shadows under Louis’ eyes.

“Not really,” Louis admits, words petering off into a yawn as he cuddles closer. “Don’t think I didn’t see the raccoon eyes you were sporting too though, love.”

A laugh startles out of Harry and he digs his fingers into Louis’ side to make him squirm. “Okay I think we’ve established we can’t sleep without each other, don’t rub it in.”

Louis chuckles, craning his neck and tapping Harry’s chin lightly to get him to turn his head before clumsily slotting their lips together. “Home didn’t feel like home without you.”

Harry feels his mouth curling up in affection before he gently presses a kiss to Louis’ forehead. “I know what you mean.”

“I’ve felt better curled up in the back of a car with you after an eleven hour flight than I did spending three and a half weeks in my own bed.” He goes quiet as he says it, voice becoming soft and feathery the way Harry’s only ever noticed it does when Louis’ talking to him.

“I’d take sleeping in the shitty bunk on the tour bus with you over the last three weeks any day,” Harry says seriously because he would. Anywhere with Louis would be better than being in his house alone. Stranded on a desert island, floating around in space, he wouldn’t care as long as Louis was there.

Louis laughs, briefly burrowing deeper into Harry’s chest. “You say the sweetest things, H.”

“Gonna write you poetry, babe,” Harry promises, trying and failing to hold back his delighted smile.

Louis snorts, speaking into Harry’s t-shirt “Please tell me it’s all gonna be as eloquent as that.”

“Only the best for my one and only.”

Hearing Louis laugh, quiet and half-hearted, with his eyes drooping shut and his joggers rumpled, Harry’s sure of two things: he’s never loved him more and he’s never letting him go ever again.

“I think ‘m gonna sleep for a week.”

“Sleep, baby,” Harry murmurs into his hair. “I’ll carry you inside when we get home.”

“Oh yeah? Gonna carry me over the threshold like a proper husband?” Louis teases, words slightly slurred around the edges as he starts to drift off.

“Not married yet,” he reminds him with a grin, eyes falling down to his ring finger. It’s bare right now but there’s a ring sitting on his dresser at home waiting for him.

“Gonna marry the shit outta ya one day,” Louis yawns.

Harry barks out a laugh, rubbing his back. “Now who’s the eloquent one?”

“Still you, H.”

“Okay, Mr “My heart, your heart, tied up like two ships”.”

“Fine, it’s a tie,” Louis mumbles, nuzzling closer when Harry kisses his hair.

“It’s a tie,” Harry agrees. “Now go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“M’kay, love you.”

“Love you too.”

Harry slouches a bit to get comfortable, resting his cheek on top of Louis’ head. And it’s as he sits in the back of a car that isn’t his own with his boy in his arms, listening to his breaths slowly start to even out that he finally feels like he’s home.

* * *

 

Louis comes back to consciousness slowly, the soft strumming of a guitar stirring him into wakefulness. When he eventually lets his eyes flutter open he sees Harry, sitting up in their bed with the covers pooled around his waist and his back cushioned by his pillow, guitar settled in his lap.

He’s playing carefully, quietly, fingers barely brushing the strings so they don’t disturb Louis. He’s singing, under his breath and shiver-inducing in the early morning.

Louis takes a second to watch, to admire, to marvel at the fact that he gets to call this boy his own. That he told Harry five years ago that he was gonna be a star and he got watch from right next to him as he did that.

He’s beautiful. So, so beautiful with his sharp jawline and his broad shoulders and his crater of a dimple and his bright eyes and his arms covered in doodles and masterpieces alike. But most of all he’s beautiful because he has a heart two sizes too big for his chest and Louis is still baffled that Harry dedicates even a little bit of it to him.

As quietly as he can, Louis rolls over to grab his phone off the bedside table. It’s a miracle Harry is still focusing on the guitar when he turns back around. Hiding his smile in his pillow, Louis opens his camera and presses record.

_“And haven't you heard?_

_I've fallen head-first.”_

He must make a noise because Harry’s head suddenly snaps up, fingers still strumming on instinct. His eyes land on Louis’ and he smiles, an infectious, blinding thing, before continuing,

“ _And he loves me so, we're two in a row,_

_Just look in his eyes, they're blue as the skies.”_

Louis grins, shifting his phone to his left hand and using his right to push himself up into a sitting position. Harry obligingly sits forward, letting Louis attach himself to his back, chin gently thunking down on Harry’s shoulder.

Louis holds the camera out in front of them for a second and Harry sticks his tongue out, lyrics forgotten about even as he keeps playing. Louis huffs a laugh, nuzzling into his shoulder and Harry’s hands finally still, the soft sounds of the guitar fading out. He feels Harry press a “good morning” into his forehead and all he can think is, it is.

“Mm morning,” Louis replies, hand finding Harry’s once he stops recording and drops his phone on the bed.

“Sleep okay?”

Louis hums in acknowledgement, nosing at Harry’s jaw. “Think I liked my wakeup call even better though.”

Harry huffs a laugh like he does when he’s embarrassed and flattered and Louis loves that he can still fluster him with compliments.

“Want me to sing something else?”

“Always,” Louis responds, punctuating it with a kiss to Harry’s shoulder before he moves back to give Harry room to grip the guitar properly. Harry relaxes against the pillows again and Louis lies down next to him, closer this time, his hand resting on Harry’s thigh just above his knee.

Harry starts strumming gently, the opening chords of Wake Up With Me filtering into the room. His voice is breathy and hopeful and Louis feels his throat go tight, out of love, out of sadness, out of the thought of better times to come…he doesn’t quite know.

But he knows he loves Harry and he knows that for the few minutes that they lie together in this bed everything is okay and that’s enough. That’ll always be enough for him.

As Harry ends the chorus - dimpling at Louis as he does - all Louis can think is, we’re almost there.

“ _You and I can make our escape,_

_And give the pain to yesterday.”_

* * *

 

Backstage

It’s euphoric. The feeling of having Louis’ arms around him, the way the entire arena seems to lift a few feet off the ground as the crowd’s screams become deafening.

He feels untouchable, feels like they made it. Even if they’re not quite there yet.

It’s the last concert of their tour and god only knows how long it’ll be before they’re back. It’s their last concert and he’s hugging the love of his life in front of thousands of people and they’re invincible.

Stumbling off stage is a blur, there’s people – so many people – congratulating him and hugging him and telling him it was a great show and the crew are applauding and Harry can barely take in anything but he’s happy and he’s proud and he’s nostalgic and he just- he wants to hug his best friends.

They find their way back to each other eventually. The four of them cling to each other just a little bit too tight, with eyes a little bit too watery to shrug it off as sweat or tiredness.

“Love ye,” Niall mumbles around a laugh. It makes the lump in Harry’s throat harder to swallow and he digs his fingers into whoever he can manage to hold onto.

They murmur their replies of, “love you too,” and they’re standing in the middle of their crowded holding area, all their foreheads pressed together and their arms tight and it feels like they’re on top of the world.

Liam and Niall get pulled away after a few minutes, friends and family wanting to celebrate the show. It leaves Harry and Louis alone, if only for a minute or two.

Louis turns to him, arms slipping over Harry’s shoulders, and looking up at him from underneath his lashes. “You hugged me,” he says.

Harry feels himself smile before he even consciously means to do it. “You hugged me,” he replies.

“We hugged,” Louis confirms, breaking out into a grin and falling forward until their foreheads tip together and their noses brush.

“We did.” Harry winds his arms around Louis’ waist, hands splayed over his back, and smudges a kiss on his cheek.

“Everybody saw.”

Harry feels his face scrunch up in a laugh at that and it’s just- he’s so _happy_. For himself, for Louis, for both of them. They’re gonna win, he knows it.

“I just got to hold you for the first time in years in front of the entire world,” Harry whispers, feeling a little wonderstruck because saying it like that, he still can’t believe this is real.

Louis’ smile is brighter than the sun when his eyes land on Harry’s and he nods, still managing to keep their foreheads touching. “’m gonna kiss you in front of the entire world one day,” he promises.

“Gonna hold you to that,” Harry replies giddily.

Louis smiles, fingers tangling in Harry’s curls and pulling him down into a kiss “It’s a date,” he murmurs.

* * *

 

The House

“Do you think they’ll recognise them?” Harry asks.

“Haz, they’re the first things we ever tweeted each other, of course they’ll recognise them.”

“Twenty pounds someone thinks it’s a manip.”

Louis barks out a laugh, slapping a hand over his mouth. “No deal, you know you’ll win.”

“Exactly,” Harry smirks.

Louis rolls his eyes before glancing at his phone. “Are you ready?”

He looks over at Harry, pressed up against his right side, biting his lip nervously with twinkling eyes. Louis’ breath rushes out of him on a laugh and he drags a hand down his face.

“I can’t believe we’re about to do this.”

“We’re doing this,” Harry confirms, eyes flicking down to the phone in his hand before he looks back up again. “Wanna know my biggest fear?”

Louis hesitates a second, fingers tightening on his phone, before nodding.

“Making a typo,” Harry answers sheepishly.

Louis’s mouth drops open in surprise before he bursts out laughing, curling forward and snickering into Harry’s shoulder. “Oh my _god_ , Harry.”

“It’s a serious worry, Lou!” Harry complains, trying and failing to hold back his own giggles. “People are gonna screenshot this and post it everywhere for the rest of our _lives_. I can’t post it and then realise five minutes later I spelled something wrong.”

Louis looks at him, still laughing - partly from nerves and partly because he is in love with the most enchanting boy in the universe. How the hell did he get so lucky?

“I love you,” he says.

It makes Harry start and Louis will never understand the way he still gets caught off guard when he says things like that because of course he loves Harry. He’s half his heart. But then Harry’s face softens and his smile slips into something tender and affectionate and he darts forward to brush their lips together, uttering a quiet, “I love you too.”

“Want me to spell-check your tweet?” Louis offers, smirking when Harry huffs out a laugh.

He groans, dropping his head onto Louis’ shoulder and mutters a, “Please.”

Louis lifts the phone out of Harry’s limp hand, lighting up the screen again and doing a quick scan of the tweet. “All good, babe. Check mine?”

Harry turns his head, not bothering to lift it from Louis’ shoulder, and reads through the tweet on Louis’ phone. “Looks good.”

Louis nods, passing Harry’s phone back to him.

“Can you believe we’re about to do this?” he whispers. He doesn’t trust his voice at normal level right now.

“’m kinda scared,” Harry admits, moving to turn his face into Louis’ neck. “And excited.”

“Hey,” Louis calls softly, nudging Harry’s arm to get his attention. Harry sits up and Louis offers his hand, palm up. “Hold my hand?”

A smile spreads across Harry’s face and he nods hurriedly, lacing their fingers together.

“Ready now?” Louis asks and Harry just squeezes his hand in answer.

With their free hands they lift their phones and pull up Twitter. They share a look and Harry raises his eyebrows. “Count of three?”

Louis nods and starts them off, “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

It feels monumental, pressing send. They sit in silence for a moment, suspended in time while they both wait for their timelines to refresh.

“We did it,” Harry says slowly, raising his head from staring at his phone. Louis answers the smile that comes over his face instantly with his own. “ _We did it!”_ Harry yells, tackling him so they fall back against the pillows.

They’re laughing and they’re kissing and Louis can feel Harry’s tears dripping onto his cheeks, mingling with his own and they’re holding onto each other for dear life and Louis can’t believe this is real.

“I love you,” he chokes out because he has to say it. Of all the times to say it, _now_ is the most important. He just told the world, but he still has to tell _his_ world.

Harry pauses, drawing back enough to look Louis in the eye. He brushes Louis’ fringe back off his face, smile constant and beautiful, and says, “I love you too. Today.” He leans down for another kiss, curved lips moulding against Louis’. “Tomorrow.” Another press of their mouths. “Always.”

“Always,” Louis repeats, voice hoarse and trembling with emotion.

He lets himself get lost in Harry after that – his wandering hands, the soft presses of his lips, the way his curls wind round Louis’ fingers – both of them ignoring the incessant pinging of their phones, left forgotten on the bed.

It’s just him and Harry and their bed. They’re home and they’re on top of the world. They’re strong, they’re something great, they’re fireproof, they’re _free_.

 

*

 

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I hope you enjoyed it!!! I'm quite proud of how it turned out tbh :')
> 
> if you're lookin', you can find me on tumblr at [ allyasavedtheday](http://allyasavedtheday.tumblr.com/) :) and the fic post is [here](http://allyasavedtheday.tumblr.com/post/134790671722/this-is-right-where-it-begins-allyasavedtheday) <3


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